


10am gare du nord

by achapterends



Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Asexuality, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Paris (City)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 23:43:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10729746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/achapterends/pseuds/achapterends
Summary: Nick visits Paris, and he leaves with a promise.





	10am gare du nord

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nightwideopen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightwideopen/gifts).



> this is for adri because she wanted a tomlinshaw ace fic and I'm a people pleaser
> 
> title is from the keaton henson song

**Paris, France  
3:16pm**

Louis looks lovely in his beret. He’d insisted on wearing one, even though Nick had teased him for it. He really does look lovely. It’s burgundy and it sits on top of his soft head perfectly. He looks like a proper Frenchman, with a name to match, albeit a thick British accent that gives him away completely. Nick walks behind him and keeps him at arm's length, snapping polaroids of him as they walk down Parisian alleyways and stop to pet stray cats and smell the aroma of freshly baked baguettes.

“Here?” Louis says, breathless, cheeks pink from the wind. He nods towards a charming looking café with an oak sign above the doorway that says _La Petite Colombe_. Nick grins at him and gestures towards the entrance, letting Louis pass by him and step over the threshold into the warm foyer of the café.

They take a seat in two worn-in leather armchairs by the window, next to a roaring fireplace. Louis makes for the menu and begins flicking through the pages, deft fingers dancing across the parchment as he scans the words for anything he might recognise. 

“ _Un thé_ , perhaps?” Nick suggests, peering over the top of the menu at Louis. His eyes are shining with childlike wonder. 

Nick wasn’t going to stop in Paris after he arrived in Cannes two days earlier, but on a whim he decided to catch a train to the capital before his next destination in the south of France. He’s so glad he did, because he got to meet Louis. At 10am, in Gare du Nord station, Louis had come over to a perplexed looking Nick and turned the map in his hands the right way round. Louis had laughed at him. Nick wanted to hear it again and again.

Louis calls the waitress over with an inviting smile and orders _un thé_ for himself, and _un café au lait_ for Nick. Nick shows Louis the pictures he’s taken while they wait for their drinks. He should probably be embarrassed that almost all of them are of Louis, but he isn’t. Louis seems to like them, at least, and he steals one of him stood beneath the Eiffel Tower that he promises Nick he’ll tack up on the wall of his apartment. Before he stows it away, Nick scribbles _Louis & Nick, Paris_ on it in inky, barely legible scrawl. 

As they sip their hot drinks and warm up, they talk about their lives. It’s less than forty eight hours since they met, and Nick wants to know everything there is to know about his newfound companion.

Louis tells Nick that he’s an exchange student, spending his year abroad from the University of London in France. He’s majoring in English, which Nick thinks suits him perfectly. He has the qualities of a storyteller, a pensive look on his face at all times, and an eye for beauty. Nick in return tells Louis about how he presents a radio show in his hometown in the North of England. It’s only small, but he hopes to make it big someday. Louis assures him that he will, and then he tells Nick how he dreams of seeing the world. Nick asks Louis to join him on his quest of doing so.

The thing is, he’s only half joking. 

They stumble back out onto the streets of Paris an hour later. When Louis reaches for Nick’s hand, Nick lets him hold it happily and intertwines their fingers. He doesn’t think too much about how they fit perfectly.

**8:44pm**

Louis turns out to be an exceptional tour guide. They take a boat ride down the Seine, steal glances at the Mona Lisa in _Le Musée du Louvre_. Louis tries to make Nick wear his beret, but his head is seemingly too large.

“We should go for dinner.” Nick blurts out between Louis poking fun at the size of his head. 

Louis’ face lights up. “Are you going to wine and dine me, _monsieur_?”

Nick bites at his lip nervously. He hopes he isn’t blushing, but the quickened pace of his heart tells him he probably is. Truth be told, Nick reckons he’s never been so infatuated with another person before Louis. “If you’ll let me.”

Louis responds by standing on his tip toes and pressing a chaste kiss to Nick’s cheek that sends his blood pressure soaring.

**9:20pm**

Dinner takes place at a cosy bistro a short walk from Louis’ apartment. Louis knows the staff, having visited the place a few times with his friends. They do wonderful steak, and delectable wine. Louis orders both. Nick watches him carefully, like he’s itching to take out his camera and capture the moment. 

“Where are you going after Paris?” Louis fills the comfortable silence, twirling the wine glass in his delicate hand. 

“Marseille. Then on to Italy.” 

“You’ll be very well travelled by the time you make it back to Manchester.” Louis observes. He’s quite jealous, and has plans to travel extensively when he completes his degree. 

Nick cocks his head to one side and quirks his lips up in a soft smile. “Yeah, that’s the plan. What about you, Louis?”

“What about me?” Louis counters, mimicking Nick’s movement and cocking his head, too. Nick narrows his eyes playfully and looks at him expectantly. Louis sighs, stabs his fork at a piece of meat. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I think that I’m searching for something.” 

Nick contemplates this, and then he does something daring. He lays his hand on top of Louis’ across the table. “What are you searching for, _colombe_?”

Dove. Like the café, from before. Louis looks bashful. 

“I’m not sure.” He meets Nick’s gaze and takes a breath. “I reckon I’ll know when I find it.”

Nick offers him a warm and gentle smile, rubs his thumb across the back of Louis’ hand. 

**11:47pm**

Louis invites Nick back to his apartment. For a nightcap, he insists. Louis has a roommate with a good collection of fine whiskey, so he pours Nick a glass on the rocks. They sit on upholstered barstools out on the sixth floor balcony. 

“It’s quite the view from up here.” Nick comments, staring across the landscape. Louis in his periphery nods slowly in agreement. It isn’t cheap, renting a place this nice, but Louis is lucky to know enough people that pulling a few strings to earn extra cash is easy. He doesn’t think he could live in a city without a balcony. It would be too claustrophobic.

The air is cool and crisp, typical for a November evening. Nick watches in awe as cars pass by on the bustling street below. As women and children walk hand in hand, decked out in matching designer raincoats. As the lights twinkle on the Seine just beyond the horizon. 

“I’d like living here, I think.” 

Louis has just finished his drink. He places it on the table and turns his head to look at Nick. “I think I’d like you living here.”

It’s Nick who closes the gap between them, in the end. He takes Louis’ jaw in his hands and kisses him lightly at first, testing the waters. Louis makes a pretty little noise, so Nick kisses him again, more. Louis opens up for him and he tastes like sunshine and Nick never wants to let him go. 

“You’re gorgeous.” Nick says, in between kisses. “Perfect.”

Louis laughs into Nick’s mouth. “Shut up, idiot.” 

Nick sticks an arm under Louis’ bum and lifts him off the barstool. Louis yelps and grapples at Nick’s arms as he maneuvers them both back into the small space of Louis’ bedroom. He shuts the doors behind them, the sheer curtains billowing in the breeze. Louis’ queen sized bed is barely three feet away, and he carefully sets Louis on top of the comforter. 

He moves in for another kiss, eager for it.

“Wait.” Louis stops him, palm spread on Nick’s chest. Louis can feel the thumping of Nick’s heart beneath his sweater. “I don’t…”

Nick frowns. “What is it, _colombe_?” 

Louis looks at his feet; shifts his palm, feels the soft material of Nick’s sweater under his fingertips. Nick reaches up and grabs Louis’ hand firmly in his grasp. With his other, he puts his fingers under Louis’ chin and tilts it upward. “You can tell me.”

Louis swallows. “I don’t want to have sex with you.”

Nick deflates. Louis sees it happen right in front of him. And he _hates_ this. It happens every single time. It’s too good to be true, when Louis meets someone he likes, and then when he can’t give them what they want, they’re disappointed in him. It seems that all Louis can ever do is let people down. He’ll never be good enough. Not for Nick, not for anyone. 

“I thought you were into me.” Nick says, voice flat. He drops Louis’ hand.

“I am, Nick.” Louis is choked up, but he tries his best to sound firm and reassuring. “I _am_. I really like you. I like kissing you. I like it when you take pictures of me and let me show you around the city. I’m glad that I met you.”

“Why don’t you want this, then?” Nick asks, and he sounds heartbroken, really. Louis hates that he can’t just give Nick what he wants. 

“I’m asexual.” Louis says. He hasn’t said it out loud before. “I’m just… not interested in sex.”

Louis watches as various emotions cross Nick’s face. Relief, shock. Understanding? “ _Oh_.”

Louis shrugs. “Yeah.”

“You should’ve told me, Louis.” Nick sits down next to Louis on the bed. His arm brushes Louis’ and he inches away, not wanting to make Louis uncomfortable. “It’s okay.”

Louis looks up at Nick. “It is?”

“Of _course_ it is, idiot. It’s not the end of the world, yeah?” Nick smiles. He wraps an arm around Louis’ slender frame and pulls him towards his chest. “I still like you. I think you’re wonderful.”

Louis feels something inside him stir. He feels hopeful, for the first time, and accepted. “Not everyone seems to think so.”

“Pfft,” Nick pulls a face. “They’re stupid.”

Louis laughs. His body feels gradually less and less tense as he lets Nick hold him, comfort him. “Really, Louis, you don’t have to worry. It doesn’t change anything.”

Louis nods. He’s going to cry, he knows it. He doesn’t want to ruin Nick’s nice sweater. “I’m gonna cry and ruin your sweater.” 

Nick squeezes him tighter and chuckles. It vibrates in his chest and reverberates against Louis’ little body. They sit like that for a while, still a bit drunk off expensive whiskey, Louis sobbing while Nick strokes his hair and tells him that it’s okay and he’s perfect and he’s _enough_.

Louis asks Nick to share the bed with him. He cuddles right up against Nick, and falls asleep feeling strangely lightheaded and incredibly at ease.

**7:41am**

“Your last ever Parisian croissant.” Louis says through a mouthful of his own pastry. “Savour it, they don’t make them like that in Marseille.”

Nick very extravagantly pops a crumb in his mouth. He hums around it. “Savouring it.”

Louis swats his arm. They’re walking down _Rue de l’Abreuvoir_ , packing in some last minute early morning sightseeing before Nick has to catch his train. Nick wants to see the _Moulin Rouge_ , especially after Louis had performed a dramatic rendition of Come What May in the shower. 

Breakfast is swiftly eaten, and Louis links his arm with Nick’s as they amble along the streets of Paris. They do stop outside the infamous _Moulin Rouge_ , and Nick takes a polaroid of Louis posing in his beret outside the doors.

“Will you be my Christian?” Louis says, seductively, waving his finger in Nick’s direction.

“Of course, _colombe_. As long as your Satine doesn’t die on me.” 

Louis laughs out loud at that, running towards Nick gleefully. He throws himself at Nick and wraps his arms around his shoulders. “ _Never_.”

**Gare du Nord  
10am**

Louis follows Nick down to the platform. They wait in relative silence until the train pulls into the station. They have, give or take, three minutes until it will depart.

“I had a great time with you.” Louis professes. All he feels is melancholy.

Nick smiles sadly. “It was really something.” 

Louis looks at his watch, adjusts his beret. He looks up at Nick through long eyelashes. 

“I’m going to miss you.” 

Nick kisses him and it feels like goodbye.

Louis doesn’t know what to do with himself when Nick steps on the train. Nick doesn’t take a seat, but leans against the window with his rucksack hitched up on his shoulder and a kicked puppy expression on his face. The conductor blows a whistle. 

Right before the doors close, Nick sticks his foot between them.

“I forgot to give you this. I want you to look after it, until I come back.”

“You’re coming back?” Louis squeaks, taking the envelope from Nick. 

“Yes, _colombe_. Wait for me.” He winks, and then the doors shut.

The train speeds off and Louis stands on the platform, flummoxed.

He walks back to his apartment with the envelope clutched tightly in his fist. It’s sunny outside, but the air is cold. Winter is rolling in, undoubtedly. 

As soon as he reaches home, Louis throws his keys on the side table in the hall and scampers to his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him. He’s out of breath and he can still feel Nick’s lips against his.

He opens the envelope slowly, cautiously. A handful of polaroids fall onto his lap. They’re all dated and annotated, much like the one that Louis had pocketed in the café the night before. Nick has scribbled little love hearts over the film, and Louis finds his phone number penned on the back of one of them, too. There’s a letter inside the envelope. Louis has no idea when Nick wrote it, considering they spent the last 24 hours together. 

He holds the paper between his fingers shakily and reads it out loud. 

_Louis,_

_I was thinking about the rest of my trip, and I don’t reckon it will be the same without you. I’m going to go to Marseille, and to Italy as planned. But then I’m coming back. I’m coming back to Paris, yeah? To you. We’ll figure something out when we get back to London, eventually. I promise you’ll see the world someday, and I’ll be right there with you._

_P.s. I am proud of you, colombe._

_Love Nick xx_


End file.
